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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127417">All Good Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/achillesofthesun/pseuds/achillesofthesun'>achillesofthesun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo has issues, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Wilbur Soot, also ranboo is traumatized lmao, also techno is a piglin hybrid but he has wings bc i said so, but im gonna make him suffer for it, ghostbur might show up some too, he's just SO sad, he's sad and impulsive your honor, i have also randomly decided to give some kids wings bc they deserve it, i just think ranboo is really neat and he deserves some rest, idk yet i guess we'll wait and see, its not a big part of the fic but i just love the dynamic, no beta we die like tommy ig, tubbo and ranboo are really good bros too because i love them</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:07:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/achillesofthesun/pseuds/achillesofthesun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ranboo had issues.<br/>This was a fact that he was all too aware of. They followed him around, plaguing his every waking moment until he couldn’t see or stand properly. They wrapped their sickly fingers around his throat and squeezed until he waned from reality and into a void where conscious and unconscious were indistinguishable and yet all too different at the same time.<br/>But he had to move on.</p><p>Or</p><p>Ranboo feels trapped in a cycle of pain and anger on the SMP and decides to leave without really telling his friends. He goes on a journey, and his friends try to find him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ranboo &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Wilbur Soot, Ranboo &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>282</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi guys! This is my first fic I've posted here, so I hope you all enjoy! If any of the CCs express that they are uncomfortable with this work, then it will be removed immediately.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ranboo had issues.</p><p>This was a fact that he was all too aware of. They followed him around, plaguing his every waking moment until he couldn’t see or stand properly. They wrapped their sickly fingers around his throat and squeezed until he waned from reality and into a void where conscious and unconscious were indistinguishable and yet all too different at the same time.</p><p>But now was not the time to think about that. He had issues, but today was going to be good. It <em>had</em> to be good. He was going to start over, something he desperately needed.</p><p>Ranboo opened one of his many books, tracing the words with his finger as he reminded himself of the things he needed. <em>Axe</em>, check. <em>Carrots</em>, check. <em>Armor</em>, check. <em>Ink and quill</em>, check. <em>Leads for Enderchest and Ranbun</em>, check. <em>Memory books</em>, check. His bags were practically bursting with all the miscellaneous things he had convinced himself was necessary.</p><p>Ranboo glanced up at the different heads mounted on the walls of his basement and pondered whether to add them to his pile of things before deciding against it. <em>I’ll leave them for Techno</em>, he thought, and pulled his final few bags onto his back. Ranboo took one last look at his basement, which felt strangely empty with only a few of his things missing, before grasping the wooden rods of the ladder and hoisting himself up.</p><p>Ranboo had made the decision to leave about a week before, pacing around his home in the dead of night. Rereading the many books of memories he had written had forced him to face the reality of what life was going to be like soon. Things may have been peaceful at that moment. The wrongs of the world may have been righted for a few fleeting seconds, but it could not last forever. Even with the fall of L’Manburg, the fall of Dream, the peace that they had found would not last, and Ranboo was <em>tired</em>.</p><p>He had almost been driven mad by the happenings of the world he lived in, haunted by a man he had barely met, a man who had barely met him. Ranboo had lived in constant fear of something that wasn’t even <em>real</em>, spinning truths endlessly inside his own head until he could not differentiate what had actually happened from listless anxieties that danced in his mind.</p><p>So Ranboo was leaving.</p><p>He flung the last few bags onto the back of the mule he had found wandering a few days before, and then picked up Enderchest and tried to make her comfortable on its back. She quickly nestled deep into one of the many bags of provisions, and Ranboo gave her a quick scratch behind her ears before turning and attempting to do the same with Ranbun, who refused to join her. <em>I guess I’ll just be holding him</em>, he thought, and gently placed the small rabbit into one of his larger winter coat pockets.</p><p>Ranboo walked to the front of the donkey and stroked its face for a moment. He knew that he was asking a lot of the animal, but silently promised it that he would make frequent stops so that it would not get too tired.</p><p>It lifted its head and stared at Ranboo for a moment, dull murky eyes looking into his own. It was strangely comforting, considering how eye contact usually makes him jumpy. Ranboo wondered what it was like to be the donkey, ignorant of the world around it and its strange and intricate politics. Sure, the donkey’s life was toilsome physically, but at the end of the long days it got to rest easy, without a dull smile and a record tugging at the back of its mind. Ranboo envied it.</p><p>But he was leaving the world behind him. He was leaving the power and the men and the gods who control both behind in the nations that would never rest. He was going to be free.</p><p>Ranboo felt guilty about wanting to leave. He knew that there were people in these lands who cared about him, who would miss him, who <em>he</em> would miss, but he was desperate. He was desperate for an end to the cycles of pain that continued on and on in these lands. Maybe he couldn’t find it for everyone, but he could find it for himself, and that had to be worth something, <em>right? </em></p><p>All week, Ranboo had debated on asking someone to go with him, but he chose not to in the end. He and Fundy had not talked since their last argument, Niki was dedicated to her side, Techno and Phil were both happy where they were at, and <em>Tubbo</em>, well, he <em>might</em> have agreed, but only if Tommy went too. And, Ranboo knew, wherever Tommy went, trouble would be soon to follow. For a moment he considered asking Ghostbur to come, but he realized that spending all of his time with a ghost might be worse for him than spending it with a cat, a bunny, and a donkey.</p><p>Eventually, Ranboo had spent so much time debating with himself on who to invite to go with him that he forgot to tell anyone he was leaving in the first place, but that’s alright. He would leave a note at Techno’s to let him know what he was doing, and be on his way. Ranboo knew that Phil would also find out soon enough that he left, and make sure to tell his other friends.</p><p>Ranboo looked back at the small shack he had made for himself, white snow piling on the roof. The place had been what it needed to be, temporary, and now he had to leave. Now he had to walk away from the little life he had carved for himself in the snow and dim lantern light, and force himself to stand up and make something <em>better</em>. The place had been good, but he had to move on.</p><p>Ranboo turned away and pulled the hood of his coat up against the snow, picking up the lead to his donkey and began walking towards Techno’s house. When he arrived, he ripped a page from one of his books and scribbled down a note containing a few instructions and a goodbye that was much harder to pen than it should have been, before placing the paper on the kitchen table where it would be seen.</p><p>He stepped back and reached for the doorknob, but stopped himself. <em>Why am I doing this</em>, he thought. <em>I am happy here. </em></p><p><strong><em>But it can’t last</em></strong>, something in the back of his mind reminded him, and he turned the doorknob.</p><p>Ranboo stepped outside into the snow and picked up the lead of his donkey. He pat Ranbun on the head and looked up as the first glimpse of the dawn began to peak over the horizon.</p><p>“It’s now or never, Ranbun,” he whispered into the winter wind, and started walking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno finds the note, and contemplates his options.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hiiiii guys!! Sorry its been so long since i last posted, but school has been so fucked and i havent had the time to really write yknow??? but hey its spring break and im bored at 2 am so why not lmao<br/>Slight TW for some mild violence, and brief descriptions of suffocation<br/>But anyway, hope you all enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Technoblade,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hi Technoblade. I’m not entirely sure what to write here. I mainly want to say goodbye. I’m sorry for never catching you face to face, but I wanted to at least let you know. I’m leaving. I have decided to go somewhere else, but exactly the place I am going I am unsure of. I plan to head north into the forest and find somewhere to settle in that direction. I have not packed everything that was in my house, so I hope it will not be too much of a burden for me to ask you this. I left some of my pets back there, and I hope that you will find good homes for them for me. Anything of material value you can keep, give away, or burn.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t try to find me, please. I’m doing this to get away. I care about the people in these lands but these lands have done nothing but hurt them. They keep getting dragged into the same conflict month after month, and some of the conflicts I helped to create. I wish I could help everyone and fix all of the wrongs of this world, but I can’t. The best thing I can do is go away. That way I won’t be hurt by them, and I also cannot hurt them. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you for the hospitality Technoblade, and I hope you extend my appreciation to Phil as well. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-Ranboo</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>P.S. If you don’t mind, please tell Tubbo that we probably won’t be seeing each other again. And tell Tommy to take care of him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Technoblade’s hands shook as he read the letter one, two, three times. He scanned it over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>NO</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>RANBOO???</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>EEEEEE</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>blood for the blood god</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voices began to pick themselves out of their tired stupor from a long night of miscellaneous chores. Ranboo was </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaving</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaving </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the only warning he gave was a note left on his kitchen table when he came home, exhausted and stumbling and, okay he’ll admit it, kind of hurt. It also seemed like the boy had not told anyone about leaving, instead expecting him to do it. Techno began to make his way over to the kitchen, throwing his cloak over the ottoman by the fire to attempt to dry it before he went out again. The blizzard was getting worse by the second, and Techno was worried. From what he could tell, Ranboo had not been out there for too long, which means that he also would not have had time to find shelter. Techno may not have known much about the kid, but he did not take him as an expert survivalist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slumped over on a stool, the tips of his wings brushing against the floor. Fingers curling around his coffee, Techno sighed. How was he supposed to do this? Ranboo had asked him to tell people where he had gone, but Techno was not good at these things. Maybe it would be best to wait until Phil came home? Then he would not have to do this alone, maybe even at all? He finished his cup of coffee, before getting up and sitting on the floor in front of the fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno stared into the flames, watching them dance in front of him. Small pieces of ash floated up into the chimney. He stretched his wings behind him slowly, letting his feathers puff out a moment. They had been covered by a cloak all day, making them feel stiff and sore. He reached behind his back and ran his fingers through the rose-colored feathers. Techno laid down on his stomach, letting his wings stretch out across his body like a blanket. His eyes grew heavy quickly and the voices began to blur together,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>sleep</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>eeeeee</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>tired techno</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>RANBOO</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>protect him</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>sleep please it’s good for you</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>blood for the blood god</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno drifted away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Flames swirled up around him as he ran, the black, rotting creature trailing behind him, iron sword scraping the netherrack underneath their feet. It ground its teeth together with a horrible scratching noise, making his sensitive piglin ears ache. The boy clambered forward, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to breathe. His shabby, golden axe would not do anything to the wither skeleton trailing him, and he was barely a good enough warrior to outmatch the occasional silverfish that had managed to crawl into his realm, so he had no choice but to run. The piglin’s feet ached from running in the hard, golden boots, and he thought that it might be easier to ditch them. A voice inside his head whispered at him to just press forward, so he abandoned the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy turned a sharp corner around another wall of netherrack, desperately glancing around to try and find an easy escape. In the distance, he noticed the dark silhouette of blackstone pillars and golden faces carved into the side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bastion</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. He may not be truly welcome there, but it would be easier to beg for their compassion than ask for a wither skeleton’s mercy. He took a step forward, only to feel something snake up and around his ankle. The piglin squealed and looked down to see a ghostly hand wrapping slender, ethereal fingers around his ankle, shooting up from wispy, brown sand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Soul sand</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was as good as dead. Even if he somehow managed to move fast enough to outpace the wither skeleton, he would never be able to break out of the grip of the souls. He contemplated which death would be easier. If the skeleton caught him, it would most likely grip it in its cold, dead fingers, letting its poison sink into him slowly until he was nothing but a shell of the boy he had been, before finally raising its sword to strike. If he continued to run, the souls would eventually drag him underneath the sand, pulling him under until he suffocated. Neither was a good option, so he froze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did not know how long he had stood there--slowly letting himself be pulled into the sand until he was waist deep--before the skeleton had reached him. It extended its bony, rotting hands forward, almost touching him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was the end</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, leaning backwards as a last ditch effort to prolong the inevitable end to his sorry, lonely life, but the end never came. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead the rattle of bones and wind and feet hitting the sand came in quick succession, but the boy was too terrified to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a warm, fleshy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hand tug him from the sand did he open his eyes. The boy was met with bright, blue pupils and short blonde hair and a massive pair of crow wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You looked like you needed some help, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno woke up quickly to the sound of glass shattering against the floor. He jumped up and grabbed his axe from the floor next to him before running into the kitchen, expecting a zombie or a skeleton to be waiting for him. It was not a zombie, or a skeleton, but the man before him was so pale that he could have been mistaken for the dead. The same blue eyes, now slightly more clouded and heavy, were wide as they stared at a piece of paper that was half crumpled in a scarred and calloused hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno. What have we done?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for sticking out with me this far, and I hope yall are enjoying!!! Ive been reading a fuck ton of wing fics here recently so ive just,,,,,decided to give techno, tommy, and wilbur wings because why not??? Updates are gonna be sporadic because its just whenever i have time to write,,another thing is that this fic does take place after doomsday but before tommy gets thrown in prison so tubbo and ranboo are not platonically married and michael isnt necessarily adopted yet, so ranboo isnt just abandoning his son or anything dont @ me,,, next chapter will probably be from ranboo's perspective if i remember correctly, but hey if i feel like writing for someone else i feel like writing for someone else,,,see yall losers &lt;333</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed! Ranboo is Sad and he just really wants a break alright?? I planning on making this a multi-chapter fic, but the updates will probably be sporadic, so bear with me. Anywho, next chapter will most likely be from a different character's perspective, but i'm also indecisive so dont bet on it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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